Discovering Dating
by DC Derringer
Summary: Castiel got Dean to agree to one, wonderful, perfect date, and that was all he wanted. But when Dean continues taking him out, just to hang, the tension starts to drive Castiel crazy.


Title: Discovering Dating

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: Castiel got Dean to agree to one, wonderful, perfect date, and that was all he wanted. But when Dean continues taking him out, just to hang, the tension starts to drive Castiel crazy.

Author's Notes: A sequel to "Discovering Destiel," this is the result of the one date Dean agreed to. Part 2 of the Discovering Trilogy.

Castiel's date with Dean had been wonderful. In his mind anyway. After talking with Sam, it was pointed out that the date had in fact been boring. But Castiel couldn't agree with him.

Dean had taken him to a diner, much like the kind he usually ate at when he had meals with Sam. Castiel had been expecting something different, like a restaurant with table cloths and waiters in clean white shirts, but decided that it didn't matter where they went for dinner. He was with Dean after all, and that was the most important part.

Dean ordered a burger and fries, and Castiel ordered the meatloaf, not because he needed to eat, or that meatloaf sounded particularly exciting, but so that he could have the full experience of a date by eating with the man he was with.

The rest of the meal consisted of what Sam would have called awkward silence. Castiel knew from the brothers telling him, that he was not good at small talk, so he usually let them lead any conversations. But Dean was not doing much of anything besides eating his food and glancing around the diner cagily every once in awhile. Still, Castiel did not mind. Dean didn't need to speak. Castiel was fine with being in his company and looking at him.

After dinner, Dean drove them to the movie theater in town and bought two tickets for some movie that had a poster of a grizzled, muscular man leaping out of an exploding helicopter. Castiel was quite certain the man would catch fire and die almost immediately, so he wasn't sure why Dean wanted to watch it.

Once inside, Dean led them into the theater to sit down. Castiel watched the movie beside Dean, and was confused that the actor in the movie was able to survive a number of injuries and situations that he was sure would kill even a man as amazing as Dean. Dean, though, seemed to be enjoying the movie greatly. He cheered and laughed at the explosions, and watched the screen wide eyed, literally on the edge of his seat as he leaned forward in anticipation. Castiel enjoyed watching him more than he enjoyed watching the movie.

At the end of the night, Dean drove them back to the motel. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, and not quite looking at Castiel, he said good night, and went into the room he shared with Sam.

Castiel smiled as the door shut behind Dean. Inside, he felt warm and happy and satisfied. He'd spent the whole evening, on a date, alone, with Dean. It was something he never would have dreamed possible, and yet it had just happened. He couldn't imagine being any happier. He disappeared from the motel parking lot, flying off, almost giddily.

Two months later, Castiel was the most miserable angel in all of creation.

Initially, he had been happy when Dean asked him out on a second date. Well, not a date. Dean called it 'hanging out.' He said it was nice to go out and do something with someone who wasn't Sammy for a change.

So they had gone out for dinner again a week later, and then went to a bar to drink and to talk. And talking had been really nice, Castiel thought. He then wished Dean had talked more on their first date. Even though Dean wasn't really talking with him, just to him, telling him stories about hunts he'd been on with his father and Sam when he was younger. He said he liked telling Castiel the stories because he'd never heard them before, and Sam always yelled at him for embellishing.

Their third date, Dean had shown him bowling, which thrilled Castiel, because at one point, Dean touched his hand to show him how to hold the ball. The rest of the game seemed silly and pointless, and also put Dean in a bad mood, even though Castiel knocked down all of his pins like he was supposed to. He just held onto the memory of Dean touching his hand.

But then there was a fourth date and a fifth and a sixth, and so many more after that, but nothing else happened. No holding hands, no cuddling, no hands in each other's pockets, and definitely no kissing. Castiel was starting to go a little crazy.

"Cas, I don't think he knows you're dating," Sam said with a small smile as Castiel sat across from him in a small coffee shop where he was doing research on their latest job. Castiel looked frustrated and disgruntled, and Sam imagined, that if he could see Castiel's wings, they'd be in disarray, ruffled, with feathers sticking out all over the place.

"Then he should stop asking me out on dates," Castiel said grumpily.

"Why don't you just put the move on him? He'll either jump into your arms, or at least realize he's leading you on and stop it."

"I cannot. I promised him I would not 'try anything,'" Castiel said, again using finger quotes.

"You promised that two months ago. You're allowed to broach a topic again with your partner if you want something to change."

"But what if he says no?" Castiel asked, looking worried, and Sam realized this was the real concern, not the frustration that Dean wasn't putting the move on Castiel for some unexplained reason, but that the reason was that he didn't want to put the move on Castiel at all. That he wasn't just oblivious about his actions driving Castiel crazy, but that he didn't care.

"Cas, my bother may be an idiot, but I don't think he'll say no."

"Really?"

"Well, he might say no at first," Sam said, and when Castiel's face fell, he added quickly. "But he'll come around, once he realizes what he's missing."

Friday night, Castiel showed up early to the motel room where Dean was getting dressed for their date. Sam had already left early, to let them talk alone.

"Hey Cas, ready for some action tonight?" Dean asked, in a chipper mood, as he usually was preceding their dates.

"Very much so," Castiel said, blushing. After spending so much time with Dean, he had started picking up on pop culture, slang, and double entendres. The double entendres were the most vexing.

"Great! There's this new action movie out, where they blow up the state of Delaware! The whole damn thing!"

"Dean, can we talk before we go out?" Castiel asked.

"Sure, what's on your mind?"

"I would like to revisit an agreement we made some months ago."

"What agreement?"

"The one where I promised not to try anything on our date. I would like to make a revision for the rest of our dates."

"What 'rest of?' I only agreed to the one date, and I did my duty."

"I am referring to the other ten dates we have been on, and the one we will go on tonight."

"Those aren't dates. They're hanging out," Dean insisted.

"There is absolutely no difference in what we do from a date. We attend date places, alone, in the evening, and you always pay for me. It IS a date. The only difference is that I have not tried anything because I promised I would not. I would like to take back that promise and move our relationship further."

"Our… relation- that's… we don't…" Dean's face was a mix of wide-eyed, slack-jawed fear and confusion, tumbled with a knee-jerk furrow of his brows for that touch of anger that was his standard go-to emotion. It was some time before Dean was able to gather his thoughts properly, and Castiel waited patiently, nervous and eager to hear what Dean's reply was going to be.

"Me and you," Dean said, switching his finger back and forth quickly between him and Castiel, nervously. "We are not in a relationship. We've been hanging out, not going on dates. I like you as a friend, and I want to spend time with you as a friend. That's all this has been the whole time. I'm sorry if you misunderstood that."

Castiel stood there mutely, his face tightened in concentration as he turned over Dean's words. They're what he'd expected, some rationalization on Dean's part about how they weren't dating, when they clearly were.

"So, is that settled? Are we clear again?" Dean asked, impatient with Castiel's silence.

"Yes. We are clear."

"Good. Now let's get going. I don't want to miss the previews."

"No."

"You said we were clear," Dean said accusingly.

"We are clear," Castiel said tightly. "You don't want to go on dates with me, so I don't want to hang out with you."

"Oh my God, you sound like such a girl. You've been talking to Sam again, haven't you?" Dean growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with frustration. He thought he'd beaten all of those Destiel fantasies out of his brother's head two months ago. Seemed like he was back on track with it again.

"Yes. Sam said I should voice my needs, or else break up with you."

"You can't break up with me we're not even-! God, never mind. Go be girls together and read Cosmo or something. I'm going to the movies to watch manly things exploding."

Dean stormed out of the motel room, stomped to his car, revved the engine louder than was necessary, and tore out of the motel parking lot with less care than he usually did, probably leaving tire marks on the pavement.

Castiel waited a moment, his body tense with restraint, and then he disappeared, reappearing instantly in the coffee shop where Sam had been hiding for the duration of their talk. Castiel visibly slumped in the seat across from Sam, his features similarly fallen.

"He stormed out," Castiel said, his voice flat and low.

"We thought that would happen. Don't worry. Just wait. He'll come back later and probably try to wring my neck. You did tell him I was involved, right?"

"He guessed after awhile."

"OK. Good. Just be patient. You've been around for millennia. You can wait a few more days while Dean gets his head out of his ass."

Castiel just sighed, feeling anxious and doubtful.

"You are forbidden from speaking to Cas ever again!" Dean shouted at Sam as soon as he walked into the motel room later that night. He stunk of cigarettes and whisky, and was a little unstable on his feet.

"Dude, I'm not having this conversation with you while you're drunk. Sleep it off."

"This is not a conversation; this is an order. No more putting stupid ideas in Cas' head. He gets confused and then I have to deal with awkward angel feelings all over the place."

"Me putting ideas in his head? You're the one that's been taking him out on chastity dates for the last two months. You've been driving him crazy!"

"Hanging out! We were hanging out! God, why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"

"Because you don't hang out with people who confess being in love with you. It's called leading them on, and it's cruel."

"So now I can't spend time with him because he's in love with me? I lose one of my best friends just like that? In what universe is that fair?"

"In the universe we live in, Dean. Nothing's fair. We make tough choices, and we try to make the best ones. So you need to choose now. Break it off clean with Cas, so he can move on, or just go the whole route and make him happy. I don't care which one you choose, but do it quickly."

Dean glared at his brother, with what he hoped was righteous indignation in the face of Sam's lucid and sober argument. He decided he was way too drunk for the conversation, and ready to worry about it later, because later was a good time to worry about other things.

In the heated silence of their motel room, Dean climbed into bed and went to sleep. Tomorrow was later.

When Dean woke up, he stayed in bed, silent and still, to see where Sam was before he got out of bed. Tomorrow wasn't later enough to have the discussion. He listened carefully, and determined that Sam was not in the room, which was curious, but not too worrying. Sam might be out getting breakfast, or, also not wanting to continue their conversation from the night before. Either option was OK with Dean, so he sat up in bed, stretching and scratching himself. He rubbed the sleep grit from his eyes, looked across the room, and saw Castiel sitting in a chair staring at him.

"Good morning, Dean," he said, his expression blank and unreadable.

Dean grunted at him and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. There was no way he was going to deal with Castiel with a full bladder. When he stepped out, Castiel was still looking at him, though his expression had changed a little bit, his eyes looked a little bigger. There was a mix of sadness and hope in those eyes. Like that puppy look he'd had when he asked Dean out on their first date. Their only date, Dean insisted to himself.

"Did you talk to Sam again this morning?" Dean asked, dropping into the chair across from Castiel. His voice was rough from sleep, and immediately accusatory.

"No."

"I thought you didn't want to hang out with me anymore?" And now he sounds a little hurt.

"I don't," Castiel said, and then hesitated. "I do, but I can't," he admitted.

"I want us to be friends, Cas. I like hanging out with you. You're my friend."

"I know. But this is… confusing for me. And sometimes, it hurts," Castiel added quietly.

Dean rubbed his face hard, an attempt to refresh himself from the heavy conversation. "I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't realize I was hurting you."

"I know," Castiel said. Because he did know. It didn't make it hurt less, to be so close to Dean and not be able to touch him. But it was better that Dean hadn't been deliberately cruel. He hadn't been ignoring Castiel's plight. Just oblivious, which he could forgive.

"Would it really be that bad?" Castiel asked after a long silence, while Dean sat there awkward and nervous, unsure what else to say.

"Would what be really that bad?" Dean asked.

"Dating me."

"I don't know, Cas," Dean said, rubbing his face again, harder this time. "No. I don't think it would be that bad. It probably wouldn't be bad at all. But, you want me to love you, and I don't. Not like that. You want me to go on dates with you and fall in love, but how are you going to feel when I don't? You'll be more hurt than before."

"I already hurt so much, how could it hurt more?"

"You'd be surprised," Dean tried to say lightly, smiling at Castiel's innocence in the complication of a relationship. Even a relationship like 'brother' or 'friend' could hurt so much sometimes, when you were close and you cared. 'Lover' could hurt a lot, too.

"You're my best friend, Cas. I like spending time with you."

"I like spending time with you too, but… It is painful for me not to be closer."

"So that would be it then? We can't hang out anymore. We can't just be friends."

"No," Castiel said sadly, looking away from Dean.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked quietly, not looking at Castiel, but at his long, thin fingers, splayed on the table between them.

"I want to love you, Dean. I would like you to return that, but mostly, I just want to love you."

"I can't promise you anything, Cas. I can't promise I won't break away, and run off, and get angry… or just…"

Castiel reached across the table slowly, to where Dean's hands rested, nervously fluttering about, gripping and twisting at each other. He covered Dean's hands with his own, slipped his hand between them, twined his fingers with Dean's thick, callused, scarred fingers. Dean's hands stilled suddenly, and he looked up at Castiel.

"Just promise that I can love you."

Dean nodded, and gave Castiel's fingers a squeeze.

Their second real date was definitely better than their first, or even the second fake date, Castiel thought. The routine was similar, with dinner at a diner, followed by a movie. But there were slight changes. At the diner, Castiel sat in the seat next to Dean, and wouldn't let his hand go until their food arrived, and Dean needed both hands to eat. When their elbows kept bumping together, forcing Dean to smear ketchup on his face, Castiel finally moved to the other side, looking sheepish. But Dean gave him a small smile, albeit a little nervously.

At the movie theater, Dean told Castiel to pick the movie. Castiel had little opinion about movies at all, his only interest before being in watching Dean while he watched movies. He knew which one Dean would want, the action thriller with the ex-marine turned drug-buster. And he also knew which one Dean was dreading, the adorable romantic comedy with a poster lettered in pink. While it would have been fun to torment Dean, he thought it would be better to save it for later. If there was indeed a later, and told Dean he'd like to see the action movie. Dean smiled with relief, and bought the tickets quickly, in case Castiel changed his mind.

Once in the theater, Dean sat down in the back of the theater, whereas usually he preferred the middle, or even closer to the front. Castiel sat down beside him, and again, reached for Dean's hand, clasping it over the arm rest, their fingers dangling in the cup holder. Dean squirmed for a bit, turning his hand this way and that, confusing Castiel, since in the diner, they'd had no problem. Then, Dean pulled his hand from Castiel's and he felt a little painful tug in his stomach.

But only for a moment. Dean leaned away, and pushed the arm rest up and out of the way before clasping Castiel's hand again and then resting it on top of his thigh. Castiel's heart fluttered hard in his chest, even as Dean muttered "…more comfortable…" under his breath.

Castiel had no idea what happened for the duration of the movie as his eyes were fastened on Dean, going from his face to their clasped hands. Every time the action surged, Dean would drop his hand for a moment, getting into the action himself, but when the music died down, without even looking, his hand found Castiel's again, gripping it tight for a moment, and then relaxing back into a comfortable clasp.

When the movie ended, they drove back to the motel, in what Castiel thought of as blissful silence. He couldn't hold Dean's hand while he was driving, but he watched his hand on the stick, and imagined it on his own.

In the motel parking lot, Dean got out and stood facing Castiel, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Good night, Dean. Thank you for taking me out," Castiel said, a small, satisfied smile on his lips, and a light of happiness in his eyes. He was certainly happier than at the end of their first date.

"Good night, Cas," Dean said, and before Castiel was able to fly off, to let Dean get the sleep that he needed every night. He was shocked one last time when Dean leaned in to kiss him.

It was nothing more than the briefest brush of dry lips against his own, and then Dean was back in his own personal space, looking awkward and embarrassed. Castiel just stared at Dean, who after a moment of that, gave the angel a clumsy smile, and then turned to his motel door, and went in.

Castiel stood there for ten more minutes, staring at the door, frozen. Finally, he reached up and touched his lips, just as lightly as Dean had kissed him.

It seemed, he was the happiest angel in all of creation again.

Dean had been grateful that Sam was asleep when he got home from his date with Castiel the night before, but he knew he couldn't avoid his brother forever. At some point, they would need to 'talk,' and Dean was dreading it.

When Dean woke up though, Sam didn't say anything. Nor did he say anything when Dean got out of the shower. Or while they were eating breakfast in the motel room and scanning the papers for jobs around the country. Sam was acting like nothing had happened and it was driving Dean insane.

"Why aren't you grilling me for details?" Dean snapped after an hour of Sam's disinterest.

"I respect your privacy too much," Sam said, his face serene and innocent.

"Bullshit. You talked to Cas already, didn't you?"

"Before you woke up."

"What'd he tell you?"

"Cas would never kiss and tell," Sam said, with a wicked smile and a hard emphasis on the word 'kiss.'

"You are never going to let me live this down, are you?" Dean said dropping his head on the table.

"After affectionately calling me 'bitch' and 'Samantha' for years? Don't even dream of it," Sam said, a little wickedly. "But before all that, I do want to say that I'm really happy about your decision with Cas."

"Shut up."

"And I want you to know that I fully support the two of you."

"Shut up."

"And you know, when things progress further between the two of you-"

"Please, stop!"

"-Just put a sock on the door, ok?"

"You really, really are forbidden from speaking to Cas anymore."

"Hey, did you know there's some fan fiction that claims through the power of your Destiel love, you can defeat the devil?"

"My life cannot get any gayer."

"Well, actually…"

"Shut up, Sam!"

The End (and this will be a trilogy, be patient)


End file.
